Confessions of a Fanboy

I worked some overtime this weekend at the day job. It’s strange to be at the day job with no one else around. My boss asked me today if I’m more productive on the weekends than I am at work. I don’t think he was taking the piss out of me when he asked, but I fumbled over the question all the same. On the one hand, I am not interrupted or distracted because I’m the only one there. On the other, the room starts to cave in on me a little bit when there’s no break in the monotony. All in all, I probably do get more done by myself. I say it’s time for my co-workers to go!

In addition to not having my work interrupted, my listening goes uninterrupted when I’m in the office by myself. That doesn’t suck. I re-discovered an old favorite on Sunday. My memory must be going because I had forgotten how great The Pernice Brothers’ Yours, Mine, & Ours is.

It’s been a long time since I added an album to the list of records I’d want with me if I were ever stranded on a deserted island. Yours, Mine, & Ours isn’t the first album I’d grab, but this weekend reminded me why I shouldn’t let too many others on the raft before I reached for it.

“The Weakest Shade of Blue” might be Joe Pernice’s finest moment as a songwriter and it’s not even my favorite song on the album! I swear if pop stations played independent artists – and by that I mean real independent artists, not independent divisions of major labels – “Weakest” would have been a Top 10 hit. I don’t always have the best ear for a hit, but I’m not wrong on this one. American music lovers were deprived.

“Baby in Two” was my favorite song on the album from the moment I first heard it and it remains so today. That’s a big bowl of rare for me. I usually tire of the first song I gravitate to when I get an album and my favorite song from it changes from time to time. “Baby in Two” has held the title four four years now. Kurt Cobain was great at writing contradictory couplets. Pernice might have outdone him with this couplet from the first verse:

Push, pull, hurry up and stall
Would you give a little if you can’t give it all

Only the late Elliott Smith rivaled Pernice’s ability to make misery, depression, and the dark places of the heart sound fucking beautiful.

Another spectacular slice of pure pop genius is “Waiting for the Universe.” Heaven-sent kisses, ambivalent looks, and smashed hearts are brought to life by an indelible melody built with big, jangly pop guitars. There are any number of ways to paint the picture of “waiting for the universe to die.” There’s something romantic about the picture on Joe Pernice’s sonic canvas.

“How to Live Alone” floors me every time I hear it because it seems like two songs sandwiched together. There are times when my brain aches as two song pieces advance and retreat in less than four minutes. These two competing ideas mesh together and it makes sense and work but I still find myself surprised by it all these listens later. Sometimes I wish he would pull these two ideas apart and develop them fully as their own song, but I can’t imagine “How To Live Alone” any other way than how it’s been assembled. The female backing vocal and some seriously slick drumming make this a real pop gem.

I don’t know how long it had been since I listened to Yours, Mine, & Ours before I queued it up on Sunday but I’ll bet the next gap won’t be as long. In fact, I know it won’t. I’m listening to it again right now.

Filed under: Tags: Joe Pernice, The Deserted Island Collection